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Robb on dialogue
Brenda, come back here please. You’re scaring the crap out me.
Oh, don’t worry about me, bro. I’ll be fine. It’s a great view; you should try it.
I was standing about 20 feet behind Brenda, my younger sister. She was sitting on the very edge of the cliffs of Moher, County Clare, Republic of Ireland.
Brenda… pleeeeez. You’re making me ill. I was ready to vomit. But I didn’t want her to hear me.
Brenda… pleeeez.
She sat on the edge of the cliff, her legs dangling, her arms at her side. The wind blew in gusts, and sometimes she tucked her air back behind her collar.
Bren… please.
This was a time of dark thoughts. Thoughts about a drastic end of life. Am I so stable that I won’t sprint to the edge and… fly? Is she?
How far do you think those rocks are down there. Maybe four, five hundred feet?
Never mind the rocks Bren. Please push your self back and come to me.
Ahhhhhh…. Oooooooo. She was almost singing loudly. Her legs were tucked against the rock, then straight out, then tucked.
Ahhhhhhh. Come on dear brother. Sit down beside me!
Brenda, get back here with me now!
Enough of your bravery. Come back here.
I screamed ‘NOW!’
She straightened her arms wide. She kicked her legs out into the warm air.
And then the strong gust I feared struck both of us.
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